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Contents Welcome to Stir Editor: Lesley Davis
p.1
A View From My Window
p.2 - 6
Touching Strangers A Short Story by Roland Denning
p.7
On My Mantlepiece by Annie Todd
p.8 - 9
Vanity & Restoration by Chloe Charalambous
p.10 - 11
Isolation Illustration by Dulcie Andrews
p.12 - 13
Don’t Spread the Virus by Amanda Weisbaum
p.14
View from Outside the NHS by Jacob Kirsh-Rowling
p.15
Photographing Under Lockdown by Philippa Hayes
p.16
Lockdown Lingo Contributed by Morris Pentel
p.17
The Other Side of the Flap by Lazlo Kovaks
p.18 - 19
Lockdown Precautions from The Ministry of Truth
p.20 - 21
Exhausted Pets
p.22
1 Photo Courtesy of Philippa Hayes
May 2020
WELCOME TO STIR
A warm thank you to all those who agreed to share Covid 19-induced musings and creativity. Please keep them coming.
Dreaming in the time of Covid By Lesley Davis Life in lockdown - will anything ever be normal again? If, earlier in the year, someone had told us we would be under house arrest come March, we would have questioned their sanity! But here we are, languishing in our houses wondering when lockdown will be lifted and, possibly more concerning, what happens next? Of course, there are many people who do not have the luxury of a decent home, let alone a garden. And, a massive callout goes to all those who are on the front line, working to protect us and those we love. To them, I would like to offer my deepest gratitude. Weekly applause , although a welcome gesture, can ring a bit hollow in the face of all the real fear
and suffering that this wicked pandemic has caused. Many people I know continue to work - albeit from home in their pyjamas! For those deprived of any such routine, there are the options to binge watch box sets, gorge banana bread and grieve for a familiar life lost while cleaning the bathroom for the upteenth time. Again, that is not the whole picture. Many are offering concrete help through volunteering and random acts of kindness, not to mention an outpouring of creativity. For some, this pernicious p a n d e m i c h a s g i ve n w ay t o dreaming. I know people who have taken up writing, drawing, on-line theatre, photography et al. Us humans have a remarkable ability to
adapt to change in inspiring, productive and interesting ways. It is for this reason that I decided to launch STIR. This is an extraordinary time that is touching everybody on the planet. I want to create a sharing platform to document how, in a small corner of the world, we are thinking and feeling. What is happening now in this archivists’ fantasy? - People with time on their hands in highly exceptional and decidedly surreal circumstances. I defy anybody to say that they are not, in some way, having their world turned upside down. Our perceptions shift as everything we believed is being called into question.. How can this not result in thought and art? Stay Safe!
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A VIEW FROM MY WINDOW By Gavin Millar
I’ve been working harder than ever but do feel lucky because it has given my work an added sense of purpose during this :me. My job is trading grain, physical trading as in buying and selling shipments of wheat, corn, soya and other raw materials which are used in the produc:on of food and animal feed. As a s u p p l i e r o f a g r i c u l t u r a l commodi:es needed for the food chain, our trade was categorised by the government as key to the Covid-19 response from day one. Keeping grain flowing out of countries in lockdown hasn’t been straight forward. I urged one foreign supplier to request help from our Trade Associa:on to lean on the government in his country to join the interna:onal effort to keep material moving and export channels open. I suggested it was essen:al to ensure we do not create another crisis caused by food shortages. He said he would prefer not to do that, and when I enquired as to why that w a s , h e s a i d “ b e L e r t h e c o m p e : : o n r e m a i n o n
lockdown, but we find a way around it”. I told him he needs to think of the bigger picture at this :me, and he said he was, but did not think I was. He explained if his compe:tors come out of this weaker than h i m , h e c a n e x p a n d h i s opera:on and will be in an even stronger posi:on. I suggested we may be speaking at cross purposes and moved on.
weekend when I burst into her bedroom screaming from the top of my lungs, “get out of bed, it’s 2.20 in the aPernoon, you need to do something useful”. I stormed out of the flat and was met by a neighbour who had heard me. “Breathe, Gavin”, he said, with a big smirk. The smug git leP his wife and kids and recently moved in near us with a younger model.
On the home front, no sooner than we got used to living kid free - one of our daughters moved out aPer gradua:ng, and the other was in Brighton at uni - we found life in our new a p a r t m e n t c o n s i d e r a b l y disrupted with the return of one psychology student. Back at home, against her will, living with her parents in lockdown in the weeks leading up to her 20th birthday. This was clearly not how she had envisaged life at this :me. I suggested to Haylee we cut her some slack and asked her to imagine what it must be like for her. I should have listened to my own advice last
ChaUng to an old friend the other night on the phone, deba:ng who would win a boxing match between Anthony Joshua and Tyson Fury, we both no:ced Boris Johnson appear on our TV screens. We agreed he didn’t look well and our conversa:on con:nued. He went on to say how much he hates him and said things I didn’t like hearing, like how he’d be pleased if he got an incurable disease and died in pain. I said he shouldn’t speak like that and reminded him that he’s s:ll someone’s son and partner, and a father to several children. He said “yeah but he only cares
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about money”. “I know that”, I said, to which he replied, “I know the other geezer is just an an:-Semi:c gypsy as well”. “Wait”, I said, “you do know it’s not Corbyn any more, Keir Starmer has taken over the Labour leadership”. “Yes” he said, “ but I thought we were s:ll speaking about Anthony Joshua and Tyson Fury”.
To finish, I’ve been drinking m o r e , e a : n g b a d l y a n d exercising less. But I am well, and my family, friends and colleagues mostly are too, and am thankful for that. But fed up and feeling increasingly worried about life aPer lockdown. See you all on the other side.
BACK IN THE ROOM Ping Pong in the Age of Corona By Mike Stubbs
I can hear the great :ts at full :lt, it’s dusk, I am playing table tennis in a large light- filled hall, there is applause, oohs and aahhs. I play a brilliant top spin smash. My opponent floats strangely and mostly wins. He has more experience, greater knowledge of the game and infinite energy. APer a good few matches, an hour or so later the birds are silent, as are the roads and I take the VR headset off and it is dark in my flat. I drink water and go to bed. There I remember playing ping pong on my own table in a nice house with lots of friends and family and here reflect on this solitary experience playing an anthropomorphic visualisa:on of an algorithm, in a flat on my own. VR sales have rocketed, Covid a perfect tes:ng ground for the new networked normal. 3
Some Days By Jeff Clark
Some days are easier than others and not meant in a cliche type of way. I describe it as when we get the weather report predicting the chances of rain Somedays there is 10% chance and sometimes there’s a 90% chance of rain. But like the English weather can be, we don't always get what is predicted. I move from happy to sad on the turn of a sixpence, weighted like in quicksand by mundane tasks. The strangest thing is the loss of excitement and enthusiasm. I wake up with the best will of delivering a full day, but end up contemplating instead. Everything can taste grey and gives me no satisfaction. I care more for others than myself but don't want to talk to them. Does everyone feel the same? Am I bored? I dream of whittling wood naked on a hillside back in touch with nature, but I look outside and its not as inviting as my imagination conjures, Walking the same 3-5 laps has lost my interest. The holidays are
over and I want to go on another one to reflect on this time. Time, of course, has lost its relevance as days lose structure. We forgive ourselves for not caring and tell ourselves everyone feels the same. But do they? What do we feel, and what do we need? We need a new normal and not one dictated by the hand of capitalism or that of a virus which steals the hugs and love of our friends and family. I promise tomorrow will be different, because I know it will. I never understood what groundhog day was till now. But the sun shines and I open like a flower worshipping the warmth. I hear the birds and remind myself that nature is benefitting and that for every action there is a reaction. There are now only 3 days a week. Saturday (optimism) Sunday (reality) Monday (low or another unknown till Saturday is back). But tomorrow will be better, it will be , it can be. I hope.
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BREXIT TO CORONA -a catalogue of loss By Lesley Davis
Following the Brexit vote in 2016, my world changed. The lovely Turkish hotel janitor who used to talk to me daily over the wall simply vanished. He was followed by Francesca, the pre-Raphaelite Italian beauty that was my downstairs neighbour. My darling Fran and her Venezuelan partner decided to move to Barcelona - and who can blame them? She was excellent company, warm hearted, bright and wise. I often think back to our evenings in the garden, in the dim twinkly fairy light, and feel nostalgic and bereft. For the next year or so, I felt Britain become increasingly alien. The politics, post-referendum was filled with such hate and rancour, it made me question my national identity. Then came the shock of Trump and suddenly the world felt wrong-footed and tainted. Was it me or the world at large that was the aberration? I’m still not sure. A friend tells me it ‘was ever thus’ and I daresay he is right, but the loss of innocence is hard to bear. Over the past three years, I have lost two cats, two cousins and, the mainstay of all security, my beloved mother, Alicia. I felt numb and disembodied. The world around me lacked substance. I continued to live my life as before, but my activities were muted. I wanted to cry and rail, but that was a luxury denied to me and still is. Covid-19, when it hit, lacked real emotional impact. My limbic system off, it felt as though the world had drifted into a mirror dreamlike state of grief that had come to define my existence. The Corona pandemic also marked the death of my father, not from the virus, but in a Care Home. This loss felt so final - My protectorate was gone.
last lunch with mum
Gloomy though this sounds, there has been a reckoning. Inevitably, fate intervenes and, as E.M. Forster says, “We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”. I think there may be a lesson in that for all of us.
SPY IN THE HOUSE OF LOVE BY FRANCESCA VELLA
In a lonely city street on a mid-spring night, a song drifts through the air: “il mondo non si é fermato mai un momento la notte insegue sempre il giorno ed il giorno verrà” - an Italian song that says that the world has never stopped time.
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An elderly lady pushes her walker forwards up a gentle slope, a dog is showing the way and a cat is following them. I watch the scene from my balcony. The image is perfect as it is and I am the only spectator - or perhaps I’m not. These days are like living in the movie Rear Window, hoping no murder is involved. We can’t accept any more; COVID has directly or indirectly stolen too many lives from us. We witness life through our windows or an outside space (if we are lucky), exploring what’s happening around us. Suddenly something happens and we become curious. In this new situation of confinement we are all becoming voyeurs. Or spies. “I'm a spy, In the house of love, I know the dream, that you're dreaming of, I know the word that you long to hear, I know your deepest secret fear” said the Doors. We imagine stories happening inside these houses, we imagine the lives of other people. But is this all in our imagination? We could experience a sensation of belonging, of being part, the willingness to participate. Are we going, today or when it's over, to interact with this newly found travel companion? Maybe this impulse could be blocked by a sudden feeling of fear, we don’t want to be intrusive, we should all respect 'holy’ privacy .Our new perspective is active and impotent at the same time, we feel powerful and powerless in the very same moment. We experience this dichotomy maybe for the first time in our lives. We look and judge, our intimate space is protected by curtains, this game of see and being seen is playing with our sense of morality. Is curiosity a part of human life? Is it our first and most important impulse, or is it just filling our boredom? Are we ready to act if we spot injustice? Let’s, for a moment, take time to think about this new role, embrace and respect it and take the very best from it. Let’s learn to be better people, even if this means just contemplating life in its simple perfection. The world never stops time.
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Touching Strangers A Short Story by Roland Denning
Looking back, the first year of lockdown went quickly.
As the months went by, habits evolved into dull routine. Our daily exercise routes passed the same faces every day at safe distance. The friendly waves and smiles were soon reduced to a barely registered nod; there wasn’t anything to say as nothing had happened, and the cheery clichés of mutual acknowledgment were long abandoned. It was in the second year that we all got tired of television. Not only had the remaining stocks of programmes been recycled so many times we knew every line and gesture by heart, but having to watch people gathered together in bars or clubs or restaurants was a constant and depressing reminder of a world that would never return.
I don’t think we would have ever predicted what we’d miss most. It wasn’t sex or conversation – that carried on mechanically within our designated households, devoid of joy or significance – but the touch of strangers. Formal handshakes, the jostle of crowds, the crush of tube trains, even the occasional slap in the face or punch in the stomach; random physical contact with another human was rare enough to become precious. I don’t know who came up with idea of the Divided Cells, but even the name, with its curious biological irony, suggested there was a genius behind it. These small rooms have become our new temples. The thin yet wonderfully strong membrane stretches from floor to ceiling. It is disinfected thoroughly before we enter. Just one person on each side, silhouetted by a dim warm glow from the opposite wall, pressing together in silence. The wall between us is not flexible enough for a full embrace but we can hug and nuzzle. Some choose to lie together on the floor, nestled together like spoons, while others stand, one hand around the waist, the other holding their partner’s, a freeze frame of ballroom dancing. I like to press my lips to the stranger’s ear so he or she can feel these words as well as hear them. You don’t have to reply, just lie there still and let me relish your warmth.
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ON MY MANTLEPIECE
BY ANNIE TODD
There’s a lot of housework going on with me at the moment, so, as I lightly dusted the bedroom mantelpiece this morning, I thought about what’s on it.
Ours is a pretty standard marble chimney, the design probably to be found in many London Victorian houses. It’s fairly generous in size, against a bright yellow wall which is cheering in morning sunlight. On it, from left to right are:
A large piece of white coral which is looking a bit dusty so I had a half hearted go on it with the soft furnishing brush of the vacuum cleaner. It looks not a lot better, so am wondering if a soak in a mild bleach solution might do the trick? I’ve never been so devoted to bleach and other cleaning products. I do believe I will recover.
Alongside the coral is a foot-high white ceramic obelisk on a gold base. It has no purpose whatsoever and I can’t remember where it came from, but I like it. Sitting next to it are two plaster ram heads, which I’ve had since the launch of Elle Deco magazine in the UK. Guests were all given one and a colleague thought it was really horrible and pointless so gave me hers. I thought about painting the eyes but never got round to it.
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This little grouping includes a small unframed oil painting of some flowers. I bought it many years ago at the annual Brixton Urban Art exhibition, organised by our friend Tim. This won’t take place this year. Tim is a dedicated, year-round outdoor swimmer, and that’s not happening at the moment, so he has lots of time in his studio actually getting down to his pet portrait commissions. He has also asked people in Lambeth to nominate a front line worker whose portrait he will paint. Moving swiftly along, there’s a vase of pretty pale yellow tulips from our local Co-op. This is a very good shop and is always pretty well stocked. They have very clear markings directing shoppers one way round the store but, obviously, many people either don’t see it or don’t understand, and also don’t have any idea what two metres looks like. Anyway, we love the Co-op and I am now on hello terms with the Warburtons bread delivery driver, who often arrives as I head out for a walk up to Parliament Hill. He is always smiling and cheerful. There’s an ancient circular mirror which we will always keep because it was given by a longdeparted friend and I think of it in his house in Primrose Hill. Beside it is a tiny Buddha figurine, sitting on a Tiffany blue jewellery box, where we keep the key of the window lock. I think I’d better check that. We were given the Buddha by a wonderful Belgian lady, Muriel, a former photo stylist, then running a pretty B&B in the Algarve. Our flat was burgled while we were staying with her and so she gave us the Buddha to look out for us or something. It was a sweet gift and I still think of her and her charming husband and the lovely beaches we used to go to, and where I’d quite like to be now. Nearly done - the right side of the mantelpiece is home to manly things including cigar boxes, trays of cuff links and collar stiffeners, long matches for lighting the fire in winter, clothes brushes, nail scissors and safety pins from the dry cleaning tickets. Our favourite guy at the local cleaners hasn’t been seen since the close down. They say he’s on holiday. I hope that’s the case. The final thing on the mantelpiece is the reflection in the mirror, which is of the bookshelves, which could do with a serious cull, but what would we do without books in these times?
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Vanity and restoration By Chloe Charalambous Ins:lling some form of daily rou:ne has been an important coping mechanism for a lot of people, myself included. Actually, my evening bathroom rou:ne has become one of the most pivotal moments of my day and has played a part in helping my mind transi:on from day to night when at :mes, the two feel indis:nguishable. You would think with so much :me on our hands, a reminder to spend some of that completely to yourself would be unnecessary, but many of us are so accustomed to the habits and rou:nes that fit within our usual :me-poor lifestyles – we are in need of an extra nudge. Pampering and vanity will not be a priority for everyone, now or ever, but at a :me where our percep:on of selves can become blurred and damaged by our own isola:on, I would recommend it for those in need of a confidence boost. Unfortunately, I have liLle to contribute in terms of deep thought or art. What I do have is several drawers full of skincare products that have helped to make both my mood and complexion a liLle bit brighter- so, I thought I would share my top three recommenda:ons. Re#nol My skin saviour – if you are to try one thing from this list, let it be this! It reduces fine lines, scarring and conges:on by gradually resurfacing the skin, l e av i n g y o u w i t h a n o : c e a b l y d e w y complexion. You must be careful of sunlight without SPF should be applied in the
exposing your face to while using it and it PM under moisturiser.
My favourite re:nol product is the Luna Sleeping Night Oil by S u n d ay R i l ey w h i c h smells like blue tansy and comes out of the dropper a deep royal b l u e s h a d e t h a t disappears into your skin in the most sa:sfying way. This product feels as luxurious as you would expect given the price tag and really elevates my night-:me rou:ne .
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Vanity and restoration . Face masks SiUng with a face mask applied and a large glass of wine truly epitomises selfcare and this ritual has become a great mid-week or weekend treat for me (not that it maLers what day it is). The Ordinary AHA BHA Peeling Solu:on is a high-grade chemical mask (to be leP on for no more than ten minutes) – I would recommend this if you’re looking to see significant changes to your skin with minimal effort. For a nourishing and less intense mask, Garnier sell a range of single use sheet masks that can be bought at some chemists and supermarkets- my favourite is the Moisture Bomb. Disclaimer: these face masks do not protect you from COVID-19 if worn to the shops. Hylauronic acid Hylauronic acid deeply hydrates and plumps the skin without feeling greasy. APer just a few days usage, the acid reveals a glass-like shine to your skin which is something I have par:cularly appreciated given the increase in my number of no-makeup days. It is crucial to use hyaluronic acid on a damp face otherwise the acid will not work properly and even to the user’s detriment. I would recommend using this with re:nol and a thin layer of moisturiser. The Ordinary sells a 2% Hyaluronic Acid for a very low price tag. They also sell a Marine Hylauronics formula which has natural ingredient subs:tu:ons and despite having a very different texture to the original hyaluronic acid (being almost the consistency of water), I have no:ced similarly considerable effects from using it- I would recommend them both. I hope that my sugges:ons are useful to those of you wishing to pamper yourselves a liLle bit amongst all the madness, or at least serve as a reminder to spend some of this spare :me selfishly where it is possible.
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ISOLATION ILLUSTRATION By Dulcie Andrews
When I was a teenager, I loved sketching and painting fashion drawings, copying photographs out of magazines. However, as with so many things, life took over and I gradually stopped finding time for drawing or painting and haven’t picked up a paint brush for around 30 years!
Floral pic - taken from a photo by Erik Madigan Heck for New York Magazine Sept 2016
One of the positive things to come out of lockdown is that people have found the time to do something creative or re-discover past pleasures and that is what has happened to me. I wanted to get back into painting but couldn’t quite see a way forward and then I remembered my teenage hobby and began to set myself some goals.
Red dress - Alexander McQueen Red Rose dress AW19 - painted for mcqueen creators project, promoted by Guardian Fashion
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Every week I would chose a story that I liked from an old magazine and try to do a painting almost every day, then pick a new story for the next week.
Pink dress from Carine Gilson - Vogue Sept 2013 Fashion story ‘Prima Donna’ - shot by Mario Testino and styled by Lucinda Chambers
Having a structure got me back into the swing of things and I am so thrilled to have rediscovered the pleasure of painting (I use gauche). I do all my paintings in a big sketchbook and plan to carry on til it’s full. I can’t wait for the shops to open so I can buy some new paintbrushes!
Black dress Dolce & Ga
bbana - as above
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Don’t spread the virus, spread the word ! by Amanda Weisbaum
I was an aid worker for many years in many contexts with the general themes being medical, health
and children. I have worked during a number of major disease outbreaks. When these outbreaks occurred, we had specific protocols to call on and follow. Each of these differed according to the disease - HIV, TB, Malaria, Ebola, Lassa Fever, Cholera – but basic response protocols stood. One of the most consistent was related to how we communicated what was happening, how the disease was transmiLed and how fast, what the symptoms were and how to treat it. How we got the messages out was crucial in containing the disease. Local engagement was essen:al as was the establishment of community groups encompassing all sectors of society. There are a myriad of ways key messages can be sent out: radio, newspapers, flyers with wriLen words, cartoons, pictures or songs. These were disseminated by trained community educators, tracers and dedicated trainers from a health background. More recently, mobile phones have been deployed to spread the word faster and into more remote communi:es. Many of the issues are very sensi:ve and complex; communica:ng informa:on about HIV or Ebola isn’t easy, but it was essen:al to be able to do this using a wide range of tools. The aim is, invariably, to change behaviour in a ‘buy-in’ rather than a dictatorial ‘this is what you have to do’ way. It would always include some background informa:on on how the disease is transmiLed, caught and passed on. Repe::on of the informa:on was also key. I can hear myself saying, ‘Tell them again, tell them again and, when you’ve done that, tell them again!’ - and it worked. Think about it, many of us can repeat verba:m the safety messages in planes as we have heard them so many :mes. We know the drill and we adhere to it. Can you see where I am going with this? Covid-19 is no different, in essence, from any other major health pandemic. What has upset me most is the apparent lack of well-rounded media for general consump:on coming from government. Where are the foreign language documents? Looking on the GOV.uk website, it took me far too long to find the pages for these. Non-na:ve English speakers may want to read and understand what is going on in their own language and not rely solely on English. The only government posters I can see around me say Wash Your Hands, Keep Your Distance and Stay Home, Protect the NHS and Save Lives. This is all well and good, but we ought to be clearer about the Why? To feel comfortable with doing what is asked, informa:on on ‘why?’ is hugely important and should come from the highest source - in this case, our government. The Corona leaflet on the government website tells us to do this and do that. There should have been at least one leaflet explaining, in a bit more detail, how long the droplets stay on differing surfaces and why they stay ac:ve when moist. There should also have been links to specific trusted medical advice. The first ar:cle I read about keeping distance stated that a 1.5 metre distance was ok if standing s:ll, 10 metres if following a runner and 20 metres if following a cyclist. There are verified graphics to prove how far droplets travel. Social distancing is not just the standard 2 meters. My concern for when the lockdown criteria is liPed is that it will obviously create a more complex set of do’s and don’ts. Without the relevant background informa:on explaining why certain measures have been taken there is likely to be confusion. Although I am not advoca:ng an extended lockdown, I would suggest that clear messages detailing the proven reali:es of living with a pandemic are made readily available. This will enhance the likelihood of majority compliance and save lives.
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The view from outside the NHS by Jacob Kirsh-Rowling
I work in a largely administra:ve posi:on for a subsidiary service of the NHS. I have been working from home now for as long as I can remember. Which is about 6 weeks (I can’t recall). I have not been part of some heroic auxiliary reserve force, deployed to meet the demands of a crisis. For me it is simply business as normal – ish. Working from home is very comfortable. I have a nice flat and I have Radio 3. APer a life lived in total commitment to Radio 4 I have made the big switch. The soothing sounds and rarefied architecture of Radio 3 have gone a long way to pacify me (during these difficult :mes). The crisis must exist, but I don’t see it. I don’t really hear about it either. I have seLled into a rather dull, but nonetheless sa:sfactory rou:ne. I get up at 08.55. I text my colleagues to prove that I exist (as well support their mental health). I then turn on my laptop and doze. At around 10.00 I switch the radio on, make a pot of filter coffee and go to my desk and drink the coffee. At 14.00 I text or call my colleagues again for the same reasons. At around 15.00 I stop. I text my Colleagues again at 17.00 to say “Goodbye” for the evening. When I say “text” I actually use Whatsapp. And when I say “call” I mean Zoom. To meet the demands of the crisis we have deployed technology: fundamentally-changing-our-working-lives-forever. Our new, hyperdynamic Service is streamlined, sociable and super-efficient. The new normal is very convenient. I would write more, but it’s :me for my 14.00 call. Cheers all
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Photographing in Lockdown (Or confessions of a curtain twitcher) by Philippa Hayes
I began a photographic project in early January which asked a variety of people to write on their hands, as an expression of their iden:ty, what Britain in 2020 meant to them. I started with friends and family then moved onto the streets and markets in my local area. In what now seems somehow prophe:c, this was the first response I got from a stranger – back before Covid-19 had really come to our aLen:on.
Inevitably this project came to a premature halt as lockdown took hold. The challenge then was to con:nue photographing but under these new constrained condi:ons. This involved a lot of aimlessly walking around the house trying to look at things with new eyes whilst finding myself con:nually looking out of the windows. Blessed with a string of sunny days I found plenty of shadows and decided to explore the play of light through different curtains. I then turned the camera on myself to reflect how I felt behind these windows.
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LOCKDOWN LINGO are you fully conversant with the new terminology? *Coronacoaster* The ups and downs of your mood during the pandemic. You’re loving lockdown one minute but suddenly weepy with anxiety the next. It truly is “an emotional coronacoaster”. *Quarantinis* Experimental cocktails mixed from whatever random ingredients you have left in the house. The boozy equivalent of a store cupboard supper. Southern Comfort and Ribena quarantini with a glacé cherry garnish, anyone? These are sipped at “locktail hour”, ie. wine o’clock during lockdown, which seems to be creeping earlier with each passing week. *Le Creuset wrist* It’s the new “avocado hand” - an aching arm after taking one’s best saucepan outside to bang during the weekly ‘Clap For Carers.’ It might be heavy but you’re keen to impress the neighbours with your high-quality kitchenware. *Coronials* As opposed to millennials, this refers to the future generation of babies conceived or born during coronavirus quarantine. They might also become known as “Generation C” or, more spookily, “Children of the Quarn”. *Furlough Merlot* Wine consumed in an attempt to relieve the frustration of not working. Also known as “bored-eaux” or “cabernet tedium”. *Coronadose* An overdose of bad news from consuming too much media during a time of crisis. Can result in a panicdemic. *The elephant in the Zoom* The glaring issue during a videoconferencing call that nobody feels able to mention. E.g. one participant has dramatically put on weight, suddenly sprouted terrible facial hair or has a worryingly messy house visible in the background. *Quentin Quarantino* An attention-seeker using their time in lockdown to make amateur films which they’re convinced are funnier and cleverer than they actually are. *Covidiot* or *Wuhan-ker* One who ignores public health advice or behaves with reckless disregard for the safety of others can be said to display “covidiocy” or be “covidiotic”. Also called a “lockclown” or even a “Wuhan-ker”. *Goutbreak* The sudden fear that you’ve consumed so much wine, cheese, home-made cake and Easter chocolate in lockdown that your ankles are swelling up like a medieval king’s. *Antisocial distancing* Using health precautions as an excuse for snubbing neighbours and generally ignoring people you find irritating. *Coughin’ dodger* Someone so alarmed by an innocuous splutter or throat-clear that they back away in terror. *Mask-ara* Extra make-up applied to "make one's eyes pop" before venturing out in public wearing a face mask.
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The other side of the flap Lazlo, like all of us, is in lockdown. Unlike us, he can go through the flap any time he wants. What can we learn from him? Please be aware: Lazlo’s perspective on the world may not coincide with yours; he is a cat and you, most probably, are not
Have you noticed how loudly the birds are singing? Yes, it annoys the hell out of me too. Smug little feathery bastards looking down and mocking all of us. In my younger days, I would have bagged a few and played with them for hours… However, I digress. I was asked here to offer advice, knowing that you humans find it much harder to curl up in one spot, peacefully, than I do. Here are some tips: 1. It seems that many of you have become obsessed with television in these trying times. My advice: avoid fashionable flat screen TVs - they are extremely uncomfortable. Find a nice, old-style tube TV and curl up on top. They are pleasantly warm and everyone will watch you as you sleep. 2. Have you stockpiled Dreamies? If not, why not?
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3. Your daily exercise walk round the block: boring, isn’t it ? Why not simply choose a half hour and run madly round the house, rearranging mats and tearing up curtains. Everyone finds this very entertaining and it avoids the suspicious stares of strangers. 4. Take a poo in a strange place! This is enormous fun! The more obscure the better, and everyone enjoys the household search that follows, trying to track down the source of the odour. 5. Take a nap. Why not? Have you got anything better to do? 6. Quality sensual stroking time. We all have our own way of getting this. You know you need it, but don’t make it too easy for them. Play a little-hardto-get, they will respect you so much more. 7. Try a change of diet. This is the easy one. Just walk away from your bowl with a sneer. They will buy increasingly exotic food with increasing desperation just to regain favour. Hugely enjoyable. 8. Have another Dreamie. Give me a good reason why not.
Why get up? This is the big question. What is the point of getting up when you are just going to go back to bed again? Lazlo resides in Camden Town, London but his following is global
Well, you tell me. I’m waiting for your ideas and questions, and I will respond thoughtfully, in the next issue of STIR.
Lazlo The Wondercat
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T HE R EF UG E R OOM Choosing your refuge room is very important. Use your exercise time to take a stroll down the street and find a house with a neglected room at ground level. The bigger the house, the greater the chance you won't be interrupted when you break in. Painting a red square on the outside of the house secures your claim. Everyone is keen to construct an attractive and efficient shelter, but please show restraint. The family to the right have perhaps become a little ostentatious. A conspicuous display of resources is not welcome in these stressful times, nor should shelters be a place where you act out your most disturbing fantasies.
Please check you have all the items shown in the pictures above. If you feel the need for additional items, please list them below. Additional points will be awarded for guessing the hidden items
Many of us dream of holidays on sandy beaches when all this is over. The Ministry is ahead of you on this dream! We are bringing the sandy beaches to your home! All stacked up ready to be enjoyed!
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K EEPI NG S AF E
The two-man portable fire pump ! In the illustration above we actually see three men, and they are all dressed as women. They also seem to be pumping water from a giant handbag. I can not explain this picture. Perhaps you can.
Not many people know that a 'chain' is the collective noun for buckets. 'Chain of buckets' is also a popular folk dance in parts of suburban London, sadly not currently allowed since dancers can not maintain the proscribed social distancing. It was often performed at night, in complete darkness, as participants quietly hummed the bucket chain song.
When you invite guests to your house, no one will be offended if you disinfect them before they enter. 
 Disinfection can be fun! And don't forget to wear matching shoes! We have standards to maintain, even in the midst of chaos!
It is crucial to maintain exercise in these difficult times. If you refuse to keep 6 feet apart the government requires you make use of an official golden exercise suit. Do you know what will occur when pupils of this anti-gas school meet pupils of the pro-gas school?
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Lockdown is so very exhausting!
ing indulg Teddy & a n t u L men manage stress
it of in a b
Ziggy & Billy chllin’
d a well-earne Milo having
nap
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